


If you could see yourself the way I do

by emperorpenguin (dortmundbvbbabe)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Body Insecurities, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Insecure Phil, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 15:14:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11084259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dortmundbvbbabe/pseuds/emperorpenguin
Summary: Phil knows what the papers have written about him that he's fat, lazy, balding. He'd hoped that after winning the Stanley Cup, that narrative would die down, but it hadn't, and after a rough return to Toronto, the insecurities come back. Thankfully, this time, Carl's there to reassure him.





	If you could see yourself the way I do

Phil had memorized the Toronto narrative. He’s fat, he’s lazy, he doesn’t care enough, he coasts on his natural talent. In all honesty, he had hoped that becoming a Stanley Cup Champion would have changed things. He didn’t expect the media to suddenly be singing his praises, but he just hoped that they would lay off of the insults. He saw enough of his Twitter mentions to know that there were still some fans who disliked him, but there were fans who disliked Sid, too, and he was the best hockey player in the league. Nevertheless, it was hard not to read the Toronto papers and not take the words to heart. Despite what the many people thought, Phil had given his blood, sweat, and tears to Toronto, he just didn’t have the trophies and titles to prove it. 

He should have known that the return to Toronto would spark a new series of articles examining what had gone wrong with his tenure in Toronto, his success at Pittsburgh, and what had changed. There were those that said he was trying harder or at least it seemed that way. Others said he just appeared better since he was on a team with Sidney Crosby and Evgeni Malkin and being on a team made everyone look better. 

There was an article, though, that had been published in the Toronto Sun, though, that just made everything worse. It was a synthesis of all of the rumors and characterizations that had plagued him for most of his career. “Phil Kessel is still the lazy, fat, naturally-gifted athlete that left Toronto, only now he’s just slightly balding.” The scathing article went on to attribute his success and Stanley Cup win to being on a team with the likes of Sidney Crosby and Geno. 

Phil knew that he shouldn’t have clicked on the article. He should have just ignored it once he saw the title, but he couldn’t. For some reason, the published articles had more weight than the random Instagram comments that he could often brush off.

He’d read the article on his phone on the flight there as Carl napped in the seat next to him. It was the first rule of being a professional athlete not to read articles about yourself and Phil had just broken it. 

He re-read the article and then pocketed his phone once the flight attendant announced that they’d be landing shortly. Carl groggily woke up when Phil nudged him to move his seat back up. “We’re almost there?”  
“Yeah, landing in a few,” Phil said. Carl tilted his head and seemed to notice that something was off. Phil forced a smile to try and reassure Carl, but Carl didn’t seem to buy it.

They checked into their hotel, one that Phil was familiar with from his tenure in Toronto and had a few minutes to rest and get settled before they’d reconvene. 

“Are you okay?” Carl asked in the elevator. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” Phil sighed. It was the first time that Carl was joining them on their trip to Toronto since he’d joined the Pens in February. 

“Just being back here, you know, brings back some stuff,” Phil said omitting the part about the article.

“Want to talk about it?” Carl asked.

“Nah, I mean you understand,” Phil said, and Carl did to a certain extent with the Rangers and with the Ducks, but he didn’t understand the rest of it. “Wanna just watch some TV?”

“Yeah, okay. Can I come over though?” Carl asked and Phil scooted to make room. Their room was standard. Two double beds, although they’d only actually use one of them, a TV, and a long full length mirror hung on the wall. They watched a few episodes of some shitty TLC show with Carl making jokes along the way. Phil mustered a couple of laughs which eased the anxiety and concern that was written on Carl’s face. 

 

He didn’t really warm up with the rest of the team, opting to instead stretch before getting on the ice. He knew that some people in Toronto were happy that he’d won the cup and brought it back, others though saw it as a conceited move after the Toronto snub.

He was unusually quiet in the pre-game, but most people just thought it was due to the return to his old team. Dales was quieter in Chicago, Carl was quieter in New York; it was expected. Carl patted the back of Phil’s neck before he put on his helmet and took to the ice.

“Hags done fucking with you?” Polak chirped as Phil went to take the face off. “Don’t know what he sees in a guy like you. I mean, the dude’s like a fucking ten.” 

Phil’s teeth ground at what Polak said, but he didn’t dignify him with a response. It was worse though knowing what Polak implied, “Carl’s a ten and you’re like a fucking three.” 

Polak’s words echoed in Phil’s mind. The worst part was, Phil knew that other people had the same thoughts. It wasn’t really a chirp but rather a painful truth.

 

Even after the Penguins won and Phil had scored a goal, it didn’t feel like a win. He was persuaded in going to the bar, but wasn’t in the mood to celebrate. Carl had tried to cheer him up, but Phil’s mood had soured and even Carl’s happy flirtation wouldn’t snap him out of the funk. He hunched over his nearly empty stein and waited for Carl to return from getting two more. There was lively chatter at the other end of the table but Phil wasn’t really paying attention. Instead, he looked at where Carl was fighting for a spot at the bar to order. For a distance, Phil saw a man approach him with purpose. He was tall and had the type of brown hair that looked like it was cut out from the pages of a magazine. Phil glowered as the man headed to Carl and engaged him in a conversation. He looked like someone who belonged with Carl. The two of them could have been models in some magazine. The other man gently touched Carl’s arm and Phil knew that he was flirting. Carl seemed to realize this too and gently extricate himself from the conversation, returning with the two beers in his hands.

Phil almost finished the second drink in one gulp and set the glass down with a heavy clink.

“Do you want another one?” Carl asked.

“Nah, I think I’ll just head back early,” Phil said. 

“Wait, I’ll come with you,” Carl said and hurried to pay their tab.

They walked back to the hotel with their hands buried deep in their coat pockets and their coat collars up to shield them from the unforgiving Toronto wind. It was only about three blocks away from their hotel and they walked the distance in near silence. For having drunk two steins in a short time span, Phil 

“You can go back if you want,” Phil said.

“I’d rather be here with you. Besides, what’s going on with you?” Carl asked.

“Nothing.”  
“Is it because that guy was hitting on me?” Carl asked, “Because it doesn’t mean-”

“No. Yes. I mean kind of,” Phil said.

“I wasn’t interested in him. I wouldn’t cheat on you, Phil, I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“I know, but like you and him looked good together,” Phil said. 

“What?” Carl replied. “We talked for like a minute, two at the most.”

“It’s just- I mean you have to get it,” Phil said.

“No, explain it to me, because I don’t understand it,” Carl said.

“You’re just, you and him made sense together,” Phil said.

“Phil, I don’t know him,” Carl said. 

“You know what Mandy said when I told her that we were dating?” Phil asked, “She said that you were way out of my league.”

“C’mon, Phil, she didn’t mean it like that.”

“But she was right, you know. I know what people think when they find out we’re together and not, you know, teammates.”

“What? That we’re in love, that you’re too good for me?” 

“I guess, I just wish people saw us together and thought that I was good enough for you,” Phil said.

“You are “good enough” for me, Phil. You are so, so good, Phil.”   
“But we don’t look like we belong together. Everyone thinks that you’re some model and I’m just a loser.”  
“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” Carl said sadly.

“Why? They publish articles about that, you know. I’m fat, balding, lazy…” Phil trailed off. 

“Is that how you see yourself, though?” 

Phil just looked down and shrugged. 

“How long have you felt this way?” Carl asked.

Phil shrugged, “It didn’t start with you, you know. It’s happened since I came to Toronto, even before that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, though?” Carl asked. 

“I just didn’t want to give you a reason to leave,” Phil said.

“Oh, Phil,” Carl said. “I-”

Phil sniffed and rubbed at his eyes, “It’s fine, I’m just gonna take a shower, okay and then head to bed.” He took his time in the shower, at first he wondered if Carl was going to follow him, but he didn’t. It was all the better, though, he hadn’t expected to say so much to Carl about his insecurities. There was nothing that Carl had done to make him feel this way, it was just the nature of things. 

He pulled on a pair of loose sweatpants and grey T-shirt and headed back to the room. Carl was sitting on the bed and didn’t look like he had moved in the meantime. 

“Sit down,” Carl said.

“What?”

“Come on, sit here,” Carl said and Phil begrudgingly sat next to him. “Look in the mirror.”

“Carl…”

“Just, do it please.”

Phil looked at his reflection in the mirror. His hair was still damp and he looked tired from the game. 

“I love your eyes, it’s my favorite shade of blue,” Carl said.

“We don’t need to do this.”

Carl pressed a gentle kiss to the back of Phil’s neck. 

“And I love your smile and how effortless it is for you when you are happy. And I love it when I make you smile.”

Carl grabbed the hem of Phil’s T-shirt and pulled it over his head. Phil almost shied away from looking at himself and the little extra weight he carried, but Carl gently moved his head back to look. “And your shoulders and arms and how strong they are for hockey. And, well, when you’re on top of me.”

“And your stomach and chest and how you let me rest on you. And your gorgeous, extraordinary hockey hands.”  
Carl reached around from behind and wiggled the waistband of Phil’s pants down. His knees dug into the small of Phil’s back. Phil lifted himself off of the bed a little so that Carl could slide them down. He slipped his hand in Phil’s boxers and started to slowly stroke him, “And well this, this is a sign of your strength.” Phil knew that he was talking about his cancer and the physical remains of it.

Carl straddled Phil from behind and slowly picked up his pace. His fingers barely touched Phil’s sensitive skin, but it was enough to stimulate him. An orgasm settled in the pit of Phil’s stomach as Carl continued. “Look at yourself,” Carl said.

Phil’s eyes narrowed as he fought against succumbing to his orgasm. He glanced at himself in the mirror. His face was flushed and his there were small beads of sweat on his forehead. His pupils were dilated, but he looked so happy. Most of all, he saw how Carl was looking at him with awe and love. 

He came with a moan and rested his weight back on Carl who continued to stroke him through it. “You are so handsome,” Carl said, “I just wish you saw yourself the way that I see you.”

When Phil’s heartrate started to lower, he turned to strip Carl down.

“Nope, this is about you,” Carl said as he batted Phil’s hand away. “I’m gonna be here tomorrow and the day after that and after, okay?”  
They both cleaned up and just lay down in their underwear on the bed just looking at each other. 

“Thank you,” Phil said with thick emotion. 

“I love you so much,” Carl said. 

“I know, but today, thanks…” Phil said as a few tears escaped.

Carl pulled him closer and kissed the top of his head, gently stroking his hair. “You’re welcome,” Carl said.

“Ugh, shit,” Phil said as he swiped the tears away. “Hey, you think when we get home, we could get ourselves one of those mirrors?” 

Carl just laughed and nodded, “Sure, sure.” And maybe this was only a temporary solution, because after years of hearing the same things over and over again, one good night wouldn’t make Phil suddenly love himself, but Carl knew he would do anything to try.  

  
  
  
  



End file.
